Passion Of Sleepy Hollow

by Lexi Post

  Braeden dropped her mother’s hand and grinned. A little too pleased with himself for Kat’s comfort.

  Her mama lifted her gaze again and looked at Kat. “He looks like—”

  “Like he wants to help me prepare for the festival. I agree.” She looped her arm around Braeden’s and turned him toward the exit. “I have a pile of logs that need to be split so I can use the wood for cooking. You’ll find the axe in the shed.”

  Braeden resisted her pull at the door. He turned to look back at her mother. “It was nice to meet you.” He gave her a studying look before he took himself outside.

  As soon as the door closed, her mama grabbed her arm. “Katrina. He looks like Brom. What are you doing? What is he doing?” Her mother pulled her to the table and made her sit. “This is the man the village was upset about last weekend, no?”

  Kat nodded. What could she say? Her heart was filled with joy at his arrival, but fear for what it could mean.

  “You think you like him, yah?”

  She remained silent.

  “Katrina, he is not Brom.”

  She pushed her chair back and walked to the counter. “I know. He is nothing like Brom.”

  “That I do not know, but his appearance is similar.”

  “Only in build.” She pulled a plate from the cupboard. “His hair is darker. His eyes are warmer.”

  Her mama cocked her head. “He’s as tall and as broad and has Brom’s muscles, but he is a Newtimer.”

  “Yes, he is, and that is the crux of the situation. What does it matter if I like him? For every week of my life, he lives a year. There can be no happiness in that.”

  Her mama rose and grasped her shoulders. “My poor Katrina. Down this road is trouble. Yah?”

  “Yes.”

  She was pulled into a sturdy embrace. “I think you yearn for Brom too much, little one.” He mother gave her back a pat and released her. “Now, if Braeden is working as you told him to, it is best we do as well.”

  Kat nodded before walking over to the window in the kitchen to see if Braeden even knew how to split logs. The sight that greeted her had her body flushing with need. He’d taken off his shirt, his chest glistening with sweat as he confidently swung the axe over his shoulder and down through the log. He bent to pick up a half and set it in place before his abs rippled as he swung the axe up again and brought it down, his aim true.

  “Katrina, what is it?” Her mama bustled over before she could get a word past her tight throat. “Oh my.”

  She had no idea how long they stood there, but when Braeden wiped his brow with the back of his hand, it brought her to her senses. “He probably needs water. Could you fill the pitchers in the rooms while I get him some?”

  Her mother nodded, fanning herself with her hand. “Of course.” She stopped Kat as Kat headed outside with a pitcher and cup. “Anything is possible, yah?”

  Chapter Six

  Kat slipped outside and strode to the water pump without looking at Braeden. If she caught sight of him, she’d forget what she needed to do. Viewing his naked torso in the sunlight as he worked was a very different experience from seeing him by lantern light.

  After filling her pitcher, she turned to find him watching her. Men in her village didn’t take their shirts off to work or for any reason except bathing and sometimes bed. She’d seen Newtimers without shirts on occasion when Indian summer graced the village during festival, but that wasn’t often.

  As she walked toward Braeden she couldn’t take her gaze from his chest.

  “Is that for me?”

  At the sound of his deep voice, she looked up to find his lips twitching. The man thought too much of himself. She handed him the pitcher and cup. “Here. I thought you might be thirsty.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I am. Thank you.”

  As he filled the glass and gulped the water, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his corded neck and the Adam’s apple that moved as he swallowed. Some of the water dribbled past the side of the glass and trailed down his jaw to drop in the dark hair of his chest.

  She wanted to lick the spot and bit her lower lip at the imagined taste and texture.

  “Kat?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you want something?”

  She looked up into his serious face. He gazed at her as if he wanted to eat her. Was that how she stared at him? “No.”

  He tilted his head. “Are you sure? You look as if you need a kiss from me.”

  “Huh? Oh no.” She stepped back. “No, I just wanted to thank you for helping me.”

  He grinned. “No need to thank me. I’m just working for my room tonight. I’d like the same one I had last time.”

  “My room?”

  “Yes.” He lost his smile. The desire in his eyes stopped her breath. “But I want you in it this time.”

  She gasped and spun on her heel, retreating into the inn. After closing the kitchen door, she leaned against it. She couldn’t resist him. He was too much male to resist. What was she going to do?

  Her mother’s footsteps on the stairs brought her back to her preparations. She left the kitchen and ducked behind the registry to grab her stool for dusting.

  “Katrina, you seem to be missing a pitcher.”

  She’d forgotten she’d taken one from a guest room for herself. “I broke one last weekend. Did you want to go to the square and fetch me another?”

  Her mother’s face brightened. “I’d be pleased to.”

  “Let me get you the coin.” She ran to her room at the back of the inn and pulled out a few bills and some half dimes. When she returned her pouch to the armoire, she couldn’t resist opening the other door to check her appearance. Her hair was everywhere but in her braid, and her apron had blackberry stains from the jam she made the day before.

  Discouraged, she closed the armoire and ran back to the kitchen. “Here you are, Mama. Also, if you see a nice comb, could you get it? I can’t find the one Grandmama gave me. I’m sure it will turn up, but until then I need something for Sundays. And if you see anything else you think I might like, please buy it.” She winked.

  “You’re the best daughter, Katrina.” Her mother enveloped her in another warm hug before practically skipping out the front door.

  It was the smallest things that made her mother happy and shopping was one of them. She rarely remembered her mother being unhappy. The last sad day her mother experienced was the day of Kat’s wedding when Brom never made it to the church. At first people had thought he’d changed his mind, but when he never reappeared, the village realized something greater was at work.

  Shaking off her thoughts, Kat went into the kitchen to find a rag for dusting. She couldn’t help stopping at the window to view Braeden. She was sorry she did. He was at the water pump filling the pitcher. She stared, mesmerized by his biceps as he easily worked the pump to fill the pitcher with one hand, a chore that took her two hands to accomplish.

  He lifted the pitcher high and poured it over his head. She gasped. The water streamed over his short hair and dropped down on his shoulders before running over his chest. She watched as water droplets caught in the curly hairs there before flattening them down. He bent and filled the pitcher again and repeated the process. After wiping the water from his eyes with his hand, he grabbed his shirt and headed for the door.

  Startled from her trance by his approach, she moved away from the window, crouched down to open a lower cupboard and retrieved a rag. When she stood, he was there, studying her.

  “I would love to see that ass with all those clothes off you.”

  Her hand flew to her chest at his comment in a useless effort to stop her heart from fluttering. “Do you mean my arse? If that’s how you talk to the women you meet, it’s no wonder they throw themselves at you.”

  His smirk returned. “No, I rarely have a chance to say much.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they aren’t interested in my conversational skills. In fact, they couldn’t care les
s if I have a brain. All they care about is this.” He flicked his hand at his muscled chest like he’d bat away a fly.

  Though her gaze had moved to where his hand indicated, her own anger at his comment caused her to look into his eyes. There was pain there and she found herself wanting to strike out at those who caused it. “Then they are slets.” She colored at the word, but it was true.

  His smile reappeared. “Do you mean sluts?”

  “I mean women who have sex with many men. Is that what you call them?”

  “You have some strange words in your vocabulary, and I noticed the same with those in your village as well.”

  “We are of Dutch descent and many of the elders cling to old words and old ways.”

  He nodded. “That explains it. So what would you call a nice ass?”

  Oh Lord, was he back to that? “A nice arse. Now I need to get the dusting done before my guests arrive.” She started forward, but he blocked her way.

  “I didn’t search for you for half a year to be brushed off because your mother is here.”

  “She’s not…” Oh no.

  “She’s not here, is she? Where did she go?” He moved closer and she took a step back, wringing the cloth in her hands.

  “She went to the village square for a new pitcher. Remember, I broke one.”

  “So she will be a while and we have time to talk.”

  She swallowed. “I thought you wanted to see my ar—ass.”

  He laughed, the sound so beautiful she wanted to hear it again and again. She wanted to go to sleep at night and dream about it.

  “So you would rather strip than talk. You’re hiding things from me, Katrina Van Tassel, and by the end of this weekend, I will discover everything there is to know about you, from the secrets you keep in that sharp brain of yours to the smallest mole on your pussy.”

  She gasped as warmth flooded her body. They were alone and if her mother enjoyed herself, they would be so for hours. She backed into the table and her heart pounded as he took the step that brought him to her. She stubbornly stared at his chest, but the water droplets there didn’t help her breathing.

  He grasped her wrist and placed her hand with the rag against his well-developed pectoral muscles. “I believe I’m dripping all over your kitchen floor.”

  She glanced up at him and found his eyebrow raised.

  “Would you dry me off?”

  Oh Lord. He read her mind. Slowly, she circled one large nipple, stroking in ever-widening arcs with the clean rag. When she finished that side, she couldn’t resist any longer and flicked her tongue across the wet tip of the other.

  Braeden sucked in air. “Your tongue is much more enjoyable.” He pulled the rag from her hand and tossed it aside.

  With no choice in the matter, she licked each water droplet she could find. She traced the line of hair that disappeared into his jeans, fascinated by the movement of the muscles in his abdomen as she licked her way down. She noticed the large bulge beneath the waistband, but once she’d licked every droplet, she stopped and stood straight. His eyes were closed, his jaw rigid. She allowed a slow smile to spread across her face. “You’re dry now, so you can put your shirt back on.”

  His eyes flew open and his look turned predatory, which sent a shiver of excitement racing up her spine. “Oh no. The last thing I’m doing is putting clothes on.” He reached down and opened his jeans.

  “Braeden! You can’t do that. It’s not even noon. We are in the kitchen.”

  His brows lowered. “You’re serious. Are you telling me you have never had sex during the day or in the kitchen?”

  “Of course not. It’s just not done.”

  His gaze softened, but she wasn’t sure what it meant. What she was sure of was he needed to get dressed.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Kat, I’m going to make love to you right here and right now.”

  Moisture pooled at the juncture of her legs and her knees buckled.

  Braeden caught her and sat her on the table. His hands left her waist to cup her breasts beneath her stays. He grumbled. “One of these days I’m going to figure out how to get you out of these, but right now I’m too impatient. I want you now. I’ve been needing you for months.”

  Her need was just as strong. Despite her brain telling her they couldn’t do this for so many reasons, she reached down and stroked his cock. Its steely hardness testified to the truth of his words.

  Braeden slipped his hand inside her neckline and coaxed each breast out above it. The stays were rough underneath them, but Braeden’s look made her nipples turn hard.

  “Have I told you how much I like your breasts? They are so full, so perfectly shaped.” He traced his fingers around each nipple and she watched to see her skin pucker around it as it grew harder, just as his had done.

  He took each nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed gently. Tingles of excitement raced from his fingers to her groin, producing more moisture between her legs.

  He made her feel beautiful.

  Braeden pulled her nipples toward him, forcing her to lean forward. He licked at her lips and she opened her mouth, but he didn’t accept the invitation. Instead, he held her nipples as he nipped at her lips and her head fell back in surrender. He traced his tongue along her chin to the base of her ear, his grip gentle yet firm. When he released her breasts she whimpered, but he grasped her against his chest and tilted her head back with his hand. Finally, he met her mouth with his and slipped his tongue inside.

  She moaned as she grasped his back, instinctually spreading her skirt-covered legs and moving her hips forward.

  He pulled back from the kiss. “I’m going to come all over your dress if we don’t get it out of the way.” Before she knew what he was about, he’d taken the hem and rolled it up until it was at her waist, exposing her to the light. That he could see her in the sunlight made her shy, and she placed a hand over her mons.

  “Lift your hips.”

  She did as he told her and he tucked the material under her butt. It was a strange position and not very comfortable.

  “Kat.”

  She glanced at him.

  “Give me your hands.”

  “But it’s so bright.”

  “Exactly. I want to see how beautiful you are. I have dreamed of your pussy lips. I need to see if my dreams were correct.”

  Pussy lips? He had to mean her quim. He dreamed of what she looked like down there? She didn’t even know what she looked like.

  “Kat, please.”

  Did she dare? She gazed into his pleading eyes and couldn’t deny him. Feeling adventurous, she gave him her hands, revealing her desire for him in her moist folds.

  Gently, he laid her back on the table, her breasts no longer heavy on her stays, but her bunched skirt tilted her hips upward, spreading her legs farther, opening her to his view. Her heart pounded as he held her thighs apart.

  “Beautiful. You are so pink and so wet for me. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

  She shook her head but he didn’t see. His gaze was focused between her legs and her breathing increased. Need spiraled down to her core.

  Reverently, he brushed through her blonde curls before he moved his hands to her folds and spread them, revealing her opening, her womanhood.

  She clenched her vaginal muscles as her wanting became overbearing.

  One of his large fingers pushed through her tightness and delved deep inside her. She lifted her hips to meet his hand. “Braeden, please. I need you.”

  He retracted his finger and brought it to his mouth. “I’ve wanted to taste you again for so long.”

  She watched, captivated as he sucked on his finger, his eyes closing in obvious pleasure. Her cheeks heated. Only he had ever tasted her. When he removed his finger from his mouth, he opened his eyes and grinned. “Better than I remembered. You blow away all my expectations. You’re a gem.”

  Her heart warmed at his comment, but her quim was bereft. “What I am…
is in need.”

  “I think I may be able to help you with that.”

  She expected him to lift her up so they could go to her bedroom, but instead, he brushed the tip of his cock against her opening. Oh Lord, he planned to enter her on her kitchen table. The unexpected thrill had her moaning.

  “Don’t worry. I’m right here.” Slowly, he pushed his wide cock head into her.

  “More.”

  “Demanding little woman, aren’t you?”

  “Yessss.” Her word sounded like a hiss to her, but he understood.

  “I need to go slowly. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re so small and it feels too good.”

  She pushed her hips up, forcing another inch of him to slide in. Her sheath stretched to accommodate him, though it had been so long, and he was so large.

  He groaned even as he grasped her hips and forced her to be still, but at least he wasn’t. He continued the long, slow glide into her. When his balls touched her butt, she sighed. Finally. Finally she felt full, complete.

  She gazed at her huge, gentle lover. Perspiration beaded his upper lip and the tendons in his neck stood rigid.

  “Braeden.” Her whisper brought his gaze to her.

  “Are you okay?” His concern touched her.

  “I’m fine.” She raised her brows. “Can you couple with me now? I need you.”

  His head dropped, so she missed his expression. He pulled his hips back and her vaginal walls sucked at him as if she didn’t want him to go. She didn’t, but the friction of his cock spearing her again sent pleasure zigzagging through her.

  His hands left her hips and settled on the table as he pulled his pelvis back and then sank into her quickly. Shocks of delight flew through her body. “Yes.”

  He pumped into her again and she gripped the edge of the table to push herself toward him as his balls slapped against her. The pleasure intensified and she craved his next entrance.

  “I can’t stop.” Braeden’s thrusts became faster. She held on to the table, pushing against him each time he slid to the hilt, her own body greedy for the satisfaction just out of reach but coming closer and closer.